The Borusan Istanbul Philharmonic Orchestra appeared in Hamburg’s Elbphilharmonie as part of the Schleswig-Holstein Music Festival, which this summer turns its focus to Turkey. Fazıl Say, the festival’s Artist in Residence, has been omnipresent across the season. Few combinations could have been more apt than closing his residency with an Istanbul orchestra: a band born of a Eurasian metropolis, bringing to Hamburg the energy of a bustling city and the layered complexity of a nation’s history.

The concert began with Ferit Tüzün’s Humoresque, a piece whose title was well justified in this performance. From its opening swing-like pulse in the winds, the music unfolded with a playful, almost jazzy vitality. The strings painted in broad, heavy strokes, like thick colors applied freely on a huge canvas, while the orchestration brimmed with urban bustle and marketplace exuberance.
Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G major followed, with Say at the keyboard in an interpretation that emphasized improvisatory freedom, constant motion and a hunger for dialogue. He played in a manner reminiscent of Glenn Gould: gesturing, sketching musical shapes in the air with his free hand, his feet tapping constantly. The first movement had a slightly neurotic edge, yet always energetic. His rubato was highly individual, occasionally leaving the brass section scrambling to follow, but the overall impression was one of spontaneity and verve. The slow movement revealed his deeply vocal approach: lyrical and expressive, if not always perfectly even in tone projection, and sometimes weakened by over-pedaling. But such imperfections paled next to the immediacy of his playing. The finale proved his natural territory: driven, uninhibited, and full of temperament, even if the brass again gave listeners a few anxious moments.
It was Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue that closed the first half, effectively the culmination of the program’s jazz-inflected arc. In this orchestra’s hands, the piece became a panorama of metropolitan nightlife, rich with swagger and rhythmic swing. Say’s piano sparkled with improvisatory flair, anchoring the score’s blend of classical form and jazz spirit. As an encore, he offered one of his own dreamlike miniatures, with lute-stop colors created by damping the strings by hand. It was haunting, fragile, and beautifully poetic.
The second half was devoted to Say’s Symphony no. 6, “A 100-Year-Old Child.” Heard live, it emerged as a continuous structure, sustained by the orchestra’s thick, richly layered sonority. The work began with a hesitant yet lyrical string theme, soon deepened by the basses into a more grounded current. From there the texture built steadily, culminating in a Brucknerian crescendo: an unstoppable swell that gradually pushed the music into harsher, more mechanized territory. At its most ferocious, the sound world evoked the brutal machinery of Shostakovich’s wartime symphonies. After this climactic drive, the music circled back to the lyrical opening theme, now shaded with memory and resilience. The orchestra, directed by Carlo Tenan, delivered the huge arcs of tension and release with remarkable discipline and weight, a testament to its maturity.
As the concluding event of Say’s SHMF residency, the evening felt like a portrait of Istanbul itself: restless, layered and charged with history. In shaping the season around Turkey and entrusting Say with its voice, the festival successfully opened a window onto a cultural landscape, at once celebratory and unsettling, local and universal.